By the Bottle

I don't drink Irony by the glass, I drink it by the bottle.

At first it goes down a little bitter, as irony does, but by the end of mug one -because we were drinking this irony from mugs as first class ladies do- the subtle hints of fruit came out over the alcohol. Of course, by this time we also smelled more of alcohol than popcorn and our heads whooshed a little when we felt the need to stand up. Sometimes we would stand up just for the fun of the whooshing.

Irony doesn't give you a headache or hangover; it lingers slightly on the back of your tongue reminding you that life goes on but that it doesn't need to be all bad, just a little bitter to swallow before you get used to what's next.